by Diane Moody
“What’s wrong, Annie? You sound upset.”
Fran’s tone iced through her veins. “I’m not upset! But I don’t think I should have to explain myself just because I can’t be there. You’ll do fine without me. Run the video then break them into their small groups. It’s not that hard, Fran.”
“Are you sick? Is one of the kids sick? Is it David? Is something wrong?”
Here we go again. All the questions. The constant prying. Why does everyone think they’re entitled to know my every thought and action? Annie took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. Fran wasn’t a beast. She meant well. “Look Fran, I can’t be there. Can we just leave it at that?” She cringed at the hypocritical tone of her own voice.
“Annie, what’s gotten into you? You’ve been so irritable lately. And I don’t mind telling you, I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
“Fine. I’m irritable. I’m crabby. I’m obnoxious. So sue me.”
She snapped the phone off and tossed it toward her purse in the passenger seat. Annie bit her lower lip to dam the flood of tears, desperate to keep her appearance intact until she walked through the door of Christine’s cabin in Colorado. Catching her reflection in the rearview mirror, she was startled by the angry woman looking back at her. Tiny red lines laced road maps across tired brown eyes, normally warm and smiling. With her thick hair pulled back into a long ponytail, her face looked pale despite an earlier dash of make-up, her lips pinched in an absurd scowl. Disgusted, she muttered a growl and pressed her foot harder against the accelerator as she flew through the ribbons of traffic approaching the airport terminals.
Seated on the plane two hours later, Annie reached into her purse to turn off her cell phone. The special cell pocket was empty. She panicked, digging through the rest of her bag. Nothing. Mentally backtracking her morning, her shoulders sagged in disbelief when she remembered tossing it toward her purse in the van, but apparently not into her purse. The tiny gadget was most likely resting between the passenger seat and door.
Great. Just great.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Delta Airlines Flight 1624 with non-stop service to Colorado Springs. The captain has been given clearance to depart from the terminal at this time, so we ask for your immediate attention to the flight attendant nearest you regarding our safety features.”
Annie continued shaking her head, still livid at the blunder in her well-constructed plans. Then a thought occurred to her. Maybe leaving her cell phone behind wasn’t a mistake after all. Maybe it was exactly what she needed to do.
Oblivious to the flight attendant’s voice drifting through the crowded cabin, Annie looked out the window beside her as the aircraft backed away from the gate then rolled gently across the tarmac. Gates and hangars marched slowly by. She leaned over to look up at the sky, studying the ominous clouds overhead. God, please hold the weather just a few more minutes until we can get up above the clouds. I can’t bear to stay on the ground another minute.
She realized she was doing it again. Her jaws ached from the constant clenching; a mindless habit she’d acquired over the last few months. She flexed her jaw, dropping her mouth open and shut, open and shut, working out the kinks.
Get ahold of yourself. It’s a four-hour flight. That’s all.
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She couldn’t believe she’d been so ugly to Fran on the phone.
What am I doing here?
Always, whenever the wave of hostility or anxiety began to threaten her composure, she reached for something to read. Earlier, while rushing through one of the airport gift shops, she picked up a copy of Grisham’s latest bestseller. Trusting the author to give her the escape she desired, she reached for the book stuffed in her carry-on bag under the seat in front of her. Rummaging through the bag, she noticed the tapestry cover of her journal. Her heart began to hammer against her chest.
Not now. Not yet.
Finding the novel, she plopped it in her lap and flipped through the introductory pages to the first chapter. By the time the 737 screamed off the runway into the air, she’d read the first sentence four times. As the darkened sky swallowed the silver bird in flight, she slowly closed the book and exchanged it for the journal. Thankful for the empty seats beside her, she caressed the worn cover gently in her hands, tracing the rounded edges with the tip of her finger.
My life is pressed between the covers of this book.
For some reason, the realization hit her hard. For as long as she could remember, she had recorded the details of her life. Sometimes the entries stretched page after page as she relayed significant events. Others were brief—sometimes nothing more than a simple phrase or thought, or a single lyric from a song that touched her. But it’s all here. The story of my life.
Yet even now, as the plane’s vapor surely trailed the expanding distance behind them, Annie knew what she must do. She swallowed hard and opened the journal.
I’m engaged! I can’t believe it! The most wonderful man on the face of the earth wants to marry me! How can that be? It was so romantic, the way he proposed, surprising me below my balcony. Even the neighbors got in on the act. Yes, David McGregor, YES!! I will marry you!!! And I will follow you to the ends of the earth . . .
A slight smile tugged at her mouth, the memories rolling over her in a gentle wave. David had been such an unexpected joy in her life. Hard to believe they once lived such a fairy tale existence. She ignored the nagging swell of her heart rate, refusing to think beyond the entry. She continued revisiting the special moments of her life, occasionally skipping notes here and there, sometimes several pages at a time.
David’s first Sunday as the new pastor of Tall Pines Community Church. We were so nervous! I got up early to make his favorite breakfast, but he couldn’t eat a bite. But he was AMAZING once he got to the pulpit. His voice was a little shaky at first, then he found his stride and spoke like he’d preached every single day of his life. I was so proud of him!
Her stomach muscles tensed. She remembered the glow of those early days of ministry; happier times now filtered through far too much resentment. I was such a naive fool back then.
She flipped through the pages, then paused to read the December 20th entry from just over sixteen years ago when a little guy named Max joined them quite unexpectedly.
We’re parents! I can’t believe it! It all happened so fast. I only wish we could’ve met his birth mother or at least find out why she picked us. Max is only eight months old and absolutely adorable. Father, thank You for letting us be Mommy and Daddy to this little guy. He’s the best Christmas gift—and first anniversary gift—we could ever ask for!
Annie could see the sparkling eyes and curly brown hair of the little boy who stole their hearts. Definitely a case of love at first sight. How was it possible this same bundle of joy was now driving? Shaving, no less!
She read on.
My back is killing me. I had 15 four-year-olds in Sunday school this morning, and none of my helpers showed up. It never fails. How can they be so inconsiderate? It wouldn’t be so bad except I can’t get around very well right now. Baby Jeremy is due in three weeks, and I feel like a beached whale. Oh Lord, forgive me for being so frustrated with these folks. I’m sure they had their reasons.
“Would you like some lunch?”
Annie blinked out of her nostalgic cocoon as the flight attendant extended a small basket toward her. “Oh . . . yes, thank you.” She slid the ribbon bookmark to her page in the journal, dropping down the tray table from the seat in front of her. She reached for her billfold, pulling out sufficient bills to pay for the meal.
She hadn’t noticed the flurry of activity in the plane as passengers removed plastic wrapping from thick deli sandwiches, potato chips, and oversized sugar cookies. As if on cue, her stomach growled, reminding her she’d forgotten to eat breakfast that morning. She took a bite of the turkey and provolone sandwich, silently praying over her meal. Then, taking a deep breath, she gazed toward the pano
ramic view out her window.
Maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe things really aren’t as bad as they seem. If only I’d taken more time to stop and breathe once in a while. If only I’d forced myself to take a few breaks along the way, go to the beach like I used to. Soak up the warm sunshine and feel the sand between my toes.
“Beverage?”
The friendly attendant had returned with a drink cart. “Yes, please. Mineral water with a twist of lemon?”
“Sure,” the uniformed brunette answered, popping open a bottle and pouring it over ice in the small glass. She tucked a wedge of lemon on the rim and handed it to Annie.
Later, all remnants of her lunch removed, Annie retrieved her journal and opened it once again. She turned to the place she’d marked with the thin satin ribbon, working her jaw again. She skimmed through more of the entries, memories and details of a marriage and a family that somehow lost its way.
The night David arrived half an hour after Jessica’s birth.
Even now, more than five years later, the resentment gripped a secret place in her heart. He’d apologized a thousand times. No, it wasn’t his fault. Jessica had arrived two weeks early. There was no way he could have known when he left town for the convention. But by the time her contractions began, she knew he would never get back in time. She’d tried to be gracious and accept it, but somehow the apologies weren’t enough. It was so much more. For the first time, as if in living color, she saw the literal reality of what their life had become.
The church owned David McGregor.
And he allowed them to do so.
Of course he never had enough time to stop and ponder anything so close to home. They kept him much too busy. Annie still believed he was a good and decent man who loved her and loved their children. So what had happened? How had David let it come to this? How had she let it come to this?
Annie had asked those questions more times than she could count. Rocking little Jessica, she would voice those concerns to David in cross whispers when he came home late at night. His response? A blank stare. Too tired to face a confrontation, he would nod his head, apologize, then shuffle off to bed. By morning, he would cling to her in bear hug embraces, grovel in more apologies, and make all kinds of desperate promises. But she knew things would stay the same. He would be sucked back into the relentless vacuum of his chosen profession.
She might as well be a single mom.
The thought sent a familiar grip circling her head. She reached for her bag and the migraine medication she lived on these days. The bitter pill melted under her tongue as she waited for relief. She tired of the beleaguered journey through the pages of her life, but she kept on. She was searching for something—anything that would help her find her way back. Anything that could give her a clue. Her body begged for a nap, but she picked up the book once more, passing months of entries as she neared the last few handwritten pages.
Last year’s Mother & Daughter Banquet . . . As chairman of the annual event, Annie had barely seen her daughter and mother-in-law that night. Two bites into her salad, she was whisked away to attend to another emergency. It wasn’t until the end of the banquet she spotted her disappointed daughter, still sitting at their table, stirring her cold potatoes in a pile of mush. Annie sat down beside her, stroking the long blonde curls before pulling her into a hug. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to desert you and Gran.”
“That’s okay, Mommy. It wasn’t any fun anyway. Can we go home now?”
She could still feel the sting in her eyes at the honesty of Jessie’s statement. All that work. All those months. But Jessie was absolutely right. It was no fun at all. It was a mother and daughter celebration, but this mother had spent only five minutes with her daughter. Five minutes. Suddenly, the truth pierced her heart: Jessica got crumbs that night—Annie’s crumbs. The same kind of crumbs Annie got from David.
What goes around comes around.
Annie exhaled a hushed moan, rolling her neck to stretch out the kinks. Enough of this. But there was one page more she must read. She didn’t want to read it. She had to. The words written there were still fresh, lettered only seven days ago.
Today, I drew a line in the sand. It is the line that divides all my yesterdays from all my tomorrows. I will no longer be who I have been. I am through with that life. I have to get away. I have to, or I will lose my mind. Tonight I made reservations for a flight to Colorado. I leave one week from today. I’m borrowing Christine’s cabin while she’s overseas right now. There I will figure out what I’m going to do. I will open my heart to God and ask for His help, but I will no longer remain as I am. Something happened today. And when it did, something snapped inside me. I needed David desperately. But he was gone. He always is. He was ministering to a hurting family in our church. They needed him. How typical. And how utterly ironic.
Annie slammed the book shut. She dropped her face into her trembling hands. Oh God, no. Not here. Don’t let me fall apart. Not yet. She squeezed her eyes and pressed her lips together, steeling herself against another wave of emotion, this one trying desperately to pull her under.
High above the earth in a plane arcing over the Midwest, Annie knew she must come to grips with who she was and exactly what she was doing . . .
A pastor’s wife, running away from home.
To read the remainder of The Runaway Pastor’s Wife click HERE.
Be Sure to Read All Three
Click HERE for more information.
For a Preview of Diane’s other novels, go to www.dianemoody.net
(click the book titles below for more information)
From Author Diane Moody
Of Windmills and War
Beyond the Shadow of War
From the Ashes of War
The Runaway Pastor’s Wife
Blue Christmas
Memphis & Me
The Demise
The Legacy
The Sibling
Confessions of a Prayer Slacker
Tea with Emma
Strike the Match
Home to Walnut Creek
At Legend’s End
The Christmas Peril
The Teacup Novellas – The Collection
Hale Hale the Gang’s All Here
(A Family Cookbook)
From Author McMillian Moody
Ordained Irreverence
Some Things Never Change
The Old Man and the Tea
A Tale of Two Elmos
A Time 4 Friends
Hearts on Fire
7 Craggie Hope Road
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